<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Cavendish's Luck by carpetsocks</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553264">Cavendish's Luck</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpetsocks/pseuds/carpetsocks'>carpetsocks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Milo Murphy's Law</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous Relationships, Autistic Vinnie Dakota, Could be seen as platonic, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Minor canon divergence, One Shot, after the pnf effect, sensory issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:42:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpetsocks/pseuds/carpetsocks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Another day, another mission, another tired Dakota.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Balthazar Cavendish &amp; Vinnie Dakota, Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cavendish's Luck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is sometime after season 1, but they never got fired.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey! Hey, Cavendish! Wait up man!” Dakota stopped and put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Cavendish’s coattails disappeared around the far corner.</p>
<p>Dakota sighed and limped over to a bench. His knee felt like it was about to give out. It hadn’t been this bad before Cavendish had demanded that he got more in shape before their next mission. A poorly thought out “conditioning” session later, and all his old injuries had flared up.</p>
<p>Speaking of which, he’d thought Cavendish had stopped calling him selfish after the whole Island incident. But he’d tossed the word at him when he’d refused to go on with the “exercise program.” <em>You always slow me down, Dakota! You need to be more in shape if we’re ever going to get better missions! Why can’t you understand this? This could be what is holding us back! Why do you have to be so selfish?</em></p>
<p>Dakota groaned and put his head between his knees. His eyes hurt. It wasn’t like he wanted to hold them back… mostly. Higher missions meant more danger, and his partner was a walking death magnet. But he liked seeing Cavendish happy, and heaven knows, the man could use a self-esteem boost. What were a few more Dakotas, a few more nightmares?</p>
<p>Tires screeched from around the corner Cavendish had disappeared behind. Dakota smacked his face and shook his head, fighting back the gruesome images in his head. Cavendish was alive. That wasn’t the sound of him dying. He was going to appear around the corner and scold him for falling behind any minute now.</p>
<p>Dakota kept his eyes squeezed closed for as long as he could shove down his anxiety, and then got up. His knee almost buckled, and he winced. There were no more tires screeching, and the streets weren’t busy. It was peaceful.</p>
<p>He smacked his palm against his forehead a few times before he rounded the corner. He immediately saw the body hanging from a banner strung across the streets and he let himself hunch over and run his hands through his hair frantically. Why today? Cavendish had <em>promised</em> him he’d be extra careful this morning, when he’d seen that Dakota wasn’t feeling good.</p>
<p>“Dakota!”</p>
<p>He snapped up to a casual standing position immediately, a reflex from years of hiding his stims. Now that he looked closer, Cavendish was tied up but wriggling, breathing, <em>alive</em>. And he was raging at the indignity of his situation.6</p>
<p>“Help me down!” Cavendish was slowly rotating now.</p>
<p>Dakota limped over to a ladder conveniently stood next to a shop. They wouldn’t mind him borrowing it.</p>
<p>Cavendish stayed silent until they were eye level with each other. There was barely a foot between them, and Dakota reached out to stop the spinning.</p>
<p>“Let me figure out how to get you down without dropping you.”</p>
<p>Cavendish grumbled something. “Were you limping?” He asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Old injury, don’t worry about it.” Maybe if he moved the ladder even closer to him, he could drop onto it? Dakota shook his head. This was when he needed Milo around. He’d have just what they needed.</p>
<p>“How’d you get up here anyways?” He asked.</p>
<p>“Well, maybe if you hadn’t fallen behind, you would know,” Cavendish huffed.</p>
<p>“Maybe if you hadn’t left me behind, you wouldn’t be up here in the first place.” There was a bite to his words and Cavendish paused. “I’m gonna pull you, get your feet on the ladder and grab onto my shoulders.”</p>
<p>Cavendish obeyed, arms practically wrapped around Dakota’s head as Dakota worked on the knots trapping him to the banner. Dakota felt his sunglasses start to twist to the side and winced at the light flooding in underneath them. Just a few more seconds and he could fix them. He took a deep breath. Cavendish smelled of lavender and soap and cinnamon, and the familiarity of it was comforting. He could push through for Cavendish.</p>
<p>Pain stabbed through his skull as he fumbled with the last knot. “You got a good grip, right?” He asked, teeth gritted. The last thing he wanted to do was drop his partner on the street.</p>
<p>“Yes.” Cavendish’s voice was tight and quiet and Dakota inwardly sighed. Looked like he’d be sitting through another lecture on his exercise habits after all this.</p>
<p>There was a moment of uncertain panic as the last rope gave and Cavendish clung to Dakota and the ladder before he got his footing on the other side. Dakota sighed in relief and adjusted his sunglasses. The shade washed across his mind, taking some of the edge off the pounding headache and replacing it with nausea.</p>
<p>“Get down,” he ordered. Cavendish first. Cavendish staying safe.</p>
<p>The silence between them was tense and he groaned under his breath. Cavendish was thinking, most likely about all the things he could berate Dakota for once they were back in their time vehicle.</p>
<p>Cavendish put the ladder back as Dakota rubbed at his forehead. It did nothing against the headache, but it was the closest he could get to stimming without seeming odd.</p>
<p>They still hadn’t said a word to each other when they got to their car. Dakota plunked into the passenger seat before Cavendish. He wanted to close his eyes, even for just a few minutes.</p>
<p>“Do you want ice cream?” Cavendish asked quietly as the car sputtered to life.</p>
<p>“No.” He was going to throw up if he put anything in his stomach, he knew it.</p>
<p>“Dakota…” There was the familiar noise of the car jumping into the time stream. “…place?”</p>
<p>He groaned as he realized he’d missed Cavendish’s question. “What?”</p>
<p>“I <em>said</em>: you don’t appear to be well. Do you want to sleep it off at my place?”</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, sure.” He dug around the glove compartment until he found the bottle of aspirin. He swallowed a few dry (why didn’t they have water in this car?). Cavendish was busy adjusting something on the console, and Dakota closed his eyes.</p>
<p>He woke up to Cavendish calling his name. His partner had already cleaned out the car of their “mission equipment” and Dakota stumbled half-asleep after him into his apartment.</p>
<p>“Nice place,” he muttered. It was clean, well-matched, and minimal. The dark wood of the furniture complemented the light blue walls and white trim well. Nothing less than he would expect of Cavendish.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Cavendish said primly. He put a hand on Dakota’s shoulder and led him through a door to the bedroom. “I’m afraid my bed is the only suitable sleeping location. I hope you don’t mind.”</p>
<p>“Course not, Cav.” Dakota curled into the multitude of pillows. “Like sleeping on a buncha marshmallows.”</p>
<p>Cavendish huffed and put a folded weighted blanket on the bed next to Dakota. “Here…” He paused, realizing Dakota was already asleep. Carefully, he tucked the blanket around his sleeping partner, wrestled the curtains closed, and turned off the lamp he’d left on that morning.</p>
<p>“Sleep well, Dakota.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>